


Steel

by theDah



Series: Tumblr prompts / events [1]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Ruroken Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theDah/pseuds/theDah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle with Shishio, Kenshin is gravely wounded and no one will know whether the morn will bring relief or grief. Hiko tries to drink away his pain, brooding about his bitter regrets in solitude.</p><p>Kaoru isn't having it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steel

**Author's Note:**

> Rurouni Kenshin Week, SET ALPHA, day 1 – Alternate POV  
> Characters: Hiko Seijuurou the 13th, Kaoru Kamiya  
> Rating: T  
> Setting: Canon, the night after the battle with Shishio  
> Word count: 2843  
> Notes: Thank you @animaniacal for your help in editing and pinning down an idea for this prompt.

 

# Steel

 

If there was one thing Hiko had learned, it was that children changed you. Whether you’d fathered the runt yourself or picked them up by the roadside, the details didn’t matter. You could call yourself their Master, teacher, or caretaker to keep the relationship more distant, but as long as you took them under your wing, the change took you by storm.

At twenty-three, Hiko had been nothing but a bitter, angry ronin, who had no purpose to his life and whose only goal for the day was to see the bottom of a sake jug. He had wandered the countryside, using his sword to solve problems such as bandits, thugs and other miscreants hampering the livelihoods of good, ordinary people. He’d lived in the moment, never thinking more than a day ahead – but even if he’d had plans, he certainly wouldn’t have intended to pass down his sword style anytime soon, or to become a substitute parent/primary caretaker for a damn tiny half-breed runt sold to a procurer.

But somehow, he had, and in short order, he had been forced to evaluate his lifestyle, fix the worst of his bad habits, and find some manner of steady income. Hell, he had even moved back into his old Master’s cottage in Nagato despite the bitter memories it held, just to secure a roof over their heads for the winters. Sure, he told himself all sorts of justifications: that it was necessary for the training, more convenient to stay in one place, more efficient… but honestly? It was all for the kid.

For Kenshin.

Funny how kids grew on you. Like mold, or fungus, or a bad rash that was impossible to get rid of. He lived nearly six years with this tiny life relying on him, pretending not to notice how the boy looked at him like he was the best thing that had ever happened to him, wise and all-knowing… until suddenly he wasn’t.

 _You don’t understand! We have to leave the mountain and help the people!_ The naïve, angry words the boy had flung him then flitted by, clear as if he had heard them yesterday.

The boy’s words were folly.

He knew now, as he had known then, that the revolution was a nasty business that would happen with or without one more sword. The last thing his gentle-hearted apprentice had needed was to get mixed up in it. But nothing, no angry words, no brutal honesty or the harshest of argument had made his young, idealistic idiot of an apprentice understand this.

Hiko scowled, peering down on his saucer. Was it just the weight of old hurts, or was the translucent wine tinged with red? He took a sip, letting the bitter tang laced with a hint of copper seep on his tongue.

It tasted like blood.

The sole lantern at the edge of veranda didn’t give much light, but after turning the saucer in his hands, he noticed a darker stain on the edge. He didn’t have to think twice to realize where it had come from and yes, at the side of his forefinger was a fleck of blood, a leftover from his time  helping upstairs.

It was darkly amusing to him that the taint in his drink and his black mood could both be traced back to the same source – to Kenshin.

“Might I join you, Hiko-san?” asked a light voice.

He glanced in the direction it came from, noting how the owner of it didn’t bother to wait for his reply before joining him on the veranda. That courtesy that wasn’t seemed to be on par with what he had come to expect from the stubborn, heart-strong Kamiya Kaoru so far.

She was here for a purpose, then – and she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Hiko let out a minuscule sigh, trying to stifle his annoyance.

“Feel free,” he said, and motioning with his saucer, invited her closer.

“Thank you,” she murmured, lowering herself to kneel, all proper and demure like, but then changed her mind and sat beside him instead, letting her legs dangle off the veranda’s edge.

It made her seem even younger.

A small, dainty girl with big heart, good intentions, and a worse tendency for naive optimisms than his foolish apprentice had ever professed. Oh, dear Buddha, he could only imagine what she was here for. Hiko took a good swig of his sake in a preparation of having to dodge her doleful gazes and concerned inquiries without saying anything needlessly cruel.

“So, what brings you here, girl?” he prompted, eager to get this over and done with. “I’m hardly the best company tonight.”

She shrugged. “It’s a long night. No one is sleeping and you looked like you needed company.”

 _Need, not want…_ Hiko noted the difference. “It’s not the first time the fool has almost gotten himself killed,” he said non-noncommittally. “At least, this time, he has good care and friends by his side. That’s more than most men can hope for when the time comes.”

“Megumi-san has done everything she can,” the girl agreed, looking at him with bleak, sad eyes. “Now, the only thing we can do is to keep watch and wait.”

Hiko hummed, reaching for his jug and pouring some more sake into his saucer. The weight of his grief was getting heavier on his shoulders, his gut tightening with dread. He had been up there for hours, watching the lady doctor dig her fingers into Kenshin’s flesh, tying severed blood-vessels and sewing the skin together with meticulous stitches. He had done all he could to help, but still, it didn’t help against the guilt stirring in his heart. It was far too close for comfort this time. Kenshin had lost so much blood, he had so many wounds…

“Kenshin will pull through this,” the girl whispered, her voice full of conviction. “I know he will.”

Hiko gave her empty platitudes as much notice as they deserved, which was none. He had just about enough of naive hope and idealism. They never brought anything but heartbreak and pain to him. The blasted mess with Shishio was only the latest in a long line of mistakes and failures, the source of which could be traced to one single decision he had spent years regretting.

“Do you know why I let Kenshin leave and join that blasted revolution?” he asked softly, more to himself than to her. The topic had loomed heavy on his mind all night, now that the child he had raised and taught everything he knew was one step from death and there was nothing more he could do about it but  _wait_  and  _hope_  for the best.

“You  _let_  him?” The girl gasped, “but I thought…”

“Do you honestly think the boy could have gotten even five miles down the road if I hadn’t let him? I didn’t approve of his plans. Of course, I didn’t – but I didn’t stop him either because he deserved to make his own decisions. It’s a teacher’s responsibility to prepare the student and free them to fulfill their purpose in life.”   

“Oh, I guess. But wasn’t he very young then?”

“He was thirteen,” Hiko said matter-of-factly. “Young, but about to become a man and he had already mastered just about all I had to teach him. Even if he had been otherwise ready, I wouldn’t have shown him the final techniques for some years.” He exhaled and looked down at his saucer, considering whether the tang of sake was strong enough to drown the bitterness the conversation brought to his mouth.

He sighed and chucked it down in one go.

It didn’t help, but that was hardly a surprise.

“At the time, Kenshin was good enough to bring  _me_  some trouble when sparring. He was far too good for the common riff-raff to ever bring him harm. So I figured, if I let him go then, he would slink back home a few months later, a little bit wiser.” Hiko continued, “After all, even the finest of clay needs hardening by fire. There’s no purpose to it, otherwise.”  

“I see.” She was looking at him strangely, like she was trying to see something.

What? Well, that was anyone’s guess.

Her nimble fingers fiddled with the bandages on her bruised wrists, not exactly nervous but thoughtful, nonetheless. “I think I understand. I  _wanted_  to tell Yahiko to stay back from the fight today, just to keep him safe… but I couldn’t. I couldn’t refuse him the chance to try. I know how good he is, how far he has come in this short time. So I kept him close and let him face the fire.”  

 _Yes, that’s right – the girl is a teacher too, isn’t she?_ Hiko inclined his head at her, looking at her with new eyes. He hadn’t seen much of their fight, but by all accounts, she and her young apprentice had held their own, a respectable feat for a slip of a girl and a boy of eleven.

“That was my reasoning, yes,” Hiko admitted, but inside he felt quite ill. Good intentions and the best reasoning didn’t matter much when it came to disastrous results. The guilt felt like a bunch of snakes coiling tight at the pit of his stomach. “While I still think my reasoning was right, I was a fool to trust on hope. I knew how dangerous of a weapon I had handed the boy, I knew the extent of his naivety, how terribly idealistic he was – I should have guessed how easily his beliefs could be twisted to serve a politician’s agenda.”

Hiko closed his eyes, thinking back on the terrible days of that bleak autumn when he had lost all track of Kenshin. No one had heard of his wayward apprentice since he left the Kiheitai in Katsura Kogoro’s retinue and Hiko had stumbled from one bar to the next, listening to rumors and hearsay, fearing the day when he’d finally hear anyone mention a red-haired swordsman. It hadn’t been a question of if, but when – he had known Kenshin would attract notice, one way or another. And still, he hadn’t quite believed his ears when he had heard the name  _Hitokiri Battousai_  the first time.

The grief stung like a rotten wound in his heart. Even the darkness of night and the haze of sake was too weak to numb it out.

“Every swordsman gathers his fair share of guilt and regrets over the years,” he said softly, too sick to try to hold back his anger and pain for her benefit. “It’s inevitable. Killing weighs heavily on the soul and that’s Kenshin’s burden to bear. However, it was my mistake that led him into a worse fire than he could bear. The finest of clay shatters the easiest, after all.”   

A long silence landed between them.

It suited Hiko just fine.

He didn’t want her platitudes or understanding.

She was just a slip of a girl, too young and innocent to understand regrets, guilt, and the terrible, soul-eating grief that came from worst sort of mistakes. The mistakes so great that they ruined people, destroying more than just their lives – but their future as well.

Hiko had no intention of explaining to this girl how he had hunted down every hint of Hitokiri Battousai’s career – if it could be called that – and how he had found out the rest of his foolish apprentice’s mistakes, his marriage to the Yukishiro girl and the tragedy it had ended in. He certainly wasn’t about to tell Miss Kamiya, or anyone, that one of the biggest reasons why he had settled in the outskirts of Kyoto and taught himself the craft of pottery was to have a steady access to the capital’s rumor mill, a way of keeping an ear out for news of his wayward apprentice. No, there was no need to tell her any of those things. Least of all tonight, when they didn’t know whether the morn would bring relief or grief.

A rustling of clothes beside him pulled Hiko out of his morose thoughts.

“Hiko-san,” she had turned to face him directly. “No one but yourself can fault you for caring too much.”

“What?” Hiko’s brows climbed higher.

Her blue eyes glinted in the moonlight like the harshest of steel. “I don’t say you couldn’t have done anything different. Of course, you could have. And if you had, much could’ve changed – or stayed the same. However, if there is something I have learned about Kenshin these few months that I have known him, it’s that he can be incredibly stubborn in his own, understated way. He feels strongly and acts on those feelings, with little thought to his own well-being. Do you honestly think  _anyone_  could have stopped him from jumping headfirst into trouble when he was hell-bent on heading there?”

Hiko stared at her, stunned at how deep her words struck.

“I can’t say I know much… but even I could see that Kenshin loves you. It was blindingly obvious from the way he looked at you, how he stepped into the role of a student like no years had passed with just a word from you.” Her eyes softened, teaming with compassion. “If Kenshin doesn’t fault you for what happened all those years ago, why should you?”

If felt like she was killing him with kindness. Her words cut into a heart infected with years of guilt, and it burnt, it burnt like the searing flames of the eighth great hell. For a moment Hiko wanted to snarl in anger about her presumptions. How dare she comment on a matter she couldn’t understand? A matter she had no place of even trying to analyze?

He narrowed his eyes at her, his ki stirring like thunderstorm looming around them.

She met his gaze evenly, not blinking, not shying away from the vicious temper she had awoken. No, her back was straight and her chin was tilted proudly like she was utterly sure of her words and her right to state them.

“You are a good man, Hiko-san,” she said. “If you can’t believe me, then I’ll make sure Kenshin tells it to you when he awakens.”

“… _when_  he awakens?”

“Yes. When,” she confirmed. “He promised me he’d return and he always keeps his promises.”

The dead certainty in her eyes… it was maddeningly sincere, but also strangely comforting. He let out a little scoff and shook his head, the thunderstorm of his bitter rage, guilt, and regret rolling away without striking down even once.

“I’ll be looking to that then,” he said slowly.

“Good,” she nodded solemnly. She set her feet on the ground, stood up and straightened to her full height, such as it was – even when he was sitting down on the ledge, she still needed to look up to meet his eyes. “Now, I’ll be going to the kitchens and see where the Oniwaban keep their tea kettle. I’m sure Megumi will appreciate a cup, or at least the distraction of criticizing my brewing skills. You are welcome to join us, Hiko-san.”

Her tone flat out  _demanded_  an answer.

“I’ll think about it,” Hiko huffed.

“We’ll be waiting for you then,” she nodded promptly, turned on her heel and marched back inside.

Hiko was left staring after her in a sort of bemused wonder. What had he pegged her as earlier? A little slip of a girl, too naive and innocent to handle the harsh realities of life? Hah! He couldn’t have come up with a more ill-fitting description if he had tried.

Suddenly he had no trouble understanding  _why_  Kenshin had seemed so enamored with her. It wasn’t just her idealism and positive attitude that made her remarkable, but also her iron core of strength, willpower, loyalty, honesty and sheer pig-headed stubbornness.

Hiko looked down at his half-empty jug of sake and let out a wry huff. Sake hadn’t brought him anything but hazy numbness, far too weak to bury his pain. Worse, it had drawn his thoughts inward and stirred up old memories, guilt, and bitter regrets. Without another thought, he stood up and upturned the jug onto the flower patch by the courtyard wall.

Kenshin was badly wounded… but he wasn’t dead yet. His boy had gotten the best care and now his friends were keeping a careful watch, alert and ready to help him. Now it was up to Kenshin to fight his way back to health. And if there was one thing Hiko was sure he had managed to stick in his foolish apprentice’s hard skull during these last few days of desperate training, it was the realization that even his own life was worth fighting for.  

A determined smile rising to his lips, Hiko headed inside.

Perhaps, he ought to get to know better the girl and motley crew that his wayward son had gathered around himself. If for no other purpose than to know a few faces at the wedding to come.

 


End file.
